Like Air.

I made my way through the forest of decaying trees as the sun was high and the air got warmer. It was noon. I've been walking aimlessly for several miles in this rugged country, not really knowing where I was going. I felt so lost.

There's this thing about not knowing where you are at all. It's a backwards feeling; loneliness and anxiety seep inside you as you wonder whether you are in Florida or New Mexico or what.

The temperature increased as I made my way out of the trees and into the open. Something told me it was about autumn now, but it was still hot as hell- no pun intended.

I limp out into the dusty atmosphere, as sweat trickled down my skin. I was wearing a short-sleeved black summer dress cut at the knees- the last thing I ever wore when I was sent down the hole. I tug at the neckline feeling helplessly miserable as the dress clung to me and I was swathed in the sticky sweat.

The new surrounding were poor and arid. Hot wind blew around the dust and the ground was hard and dry. Nothing green grew- not even the wood I just left, with its dying trees and brush crying out for water. All around this place was barren and depressed. My feet made crunching sounds as I shuffled along, my legs aching for rest. Worse yet- I was barefooted. The ground burned.

I wondered if I would ever reach civilization.

---

It was probably a little after three as I reached a long, brand-new tar road stretching from left to right. No car came. Farther ahead was the outskirts of a small, forgotten town. Lazy winds blow the dirt around, and I squint to prevent it from getting into my eyes. Sand covered my hair and my dress.

Buildings ahead were outlined in my view, blocks of them near the horizon.

They seemed so far away.

Crossing the road, I made my way closer to the buildings. Here, dry wheat and foreign plants-probably weeds- grew in sprouts and patches around me. The town came into view and in no time I had reached a faded wooden post:

You Are Now In Rock Springs, Wyoming

Cool. But where the hell where the springs?

---

Several yards later, I had finally gotten to the town. Minuscule buildings- a tire shop with a tin awning, a cowboy-themed sixties diner, and a crack motel- were as dusty and poor as the countryside. Needless to say, they didn't look promising.

Does anyone even come here anymore?

A handful of souped-up old cars were parked alongside the streets, most of them near the diner.

My best bet was to go there- where all the food was.

-But no money.

I entered the diner. Country music was in the background. Backwoodsy company filled the booths- crusty old men that smelled like tobacco. But, forget them. The aroma of food overpowered the room. Mounds of sliced turkey drowned in gravy where stacked on their plates. They shoveled scrambled eggs and oily, crispy bacon into their mouths. It was still kinda warm, but hey- it was warm with food. My mouth watered.

Oh my god, I think I smell sausage.

Goddamn it. No fucking money.

I soon got the notion that I was being stared at once people stopped talking.

Well, I'd stare too, if a bumish looking girl with silver hair walked into my place.

I retreated to a table at the darkest, farthest, most unnoticeable corner of the room. People stared on. I glared, then downcast my eyes to the salt and pepper shakers on my table.

After a few minutes, a real country woman who had double chins and a gap came to my table.

"Would ya like anything, doll?" she purred in an appalling accent that matched her apron.

Playing it sweet, I shook my head and once again stared at the tablecloth. She got the message and scurried away to another table of customers.

Time passed and dusk came. My stomach groaned at the teasing smell of ubiquitous food.

Thankfully, the lady came back with a heaping plate of bacon and corned beef and beans. She placed the plate right before my nose. "Now there you go," she said, "Eat up. You look frightfully thin." The way she said it, it sounded like "thane".

I mumbled a thank you and picked politely at the meal. With that she added a tall glass of iced tea, a pat on the head, and she left to tend to others. The other waitress stared at me from the serving counter. I bet they figured that I was some kind of hobo that wandered into the town. Half right. My face burned as I avoided her gaze and swallowed down the food. Humiliating.

As I finished the plate and drained the iced tea, a pang of solitude hit me. I felt so alone in this group of strangers. My heart tugged for those that I had left behind two hundred years ago.

Mom, dad, uncle Raph, my best friend...

All far, far away.

And I was here...